Gazing at a Broken Heart
by tobiz9
Summary: Its Hermione's 7th year at Hogwarts. After hearing a strange and troubling conversation between Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, Hermione decides to find out what is going on. DMHG. Books 6, and 7 disregarded, Sirius is alive, and Lucius isn't in Azkaban.
1. Chapter 1

Hey! So this is a repost of an old story of mine of the same name, but I've edited it and I think it is better now. ENJOY, and REVIEW!

* * *

**Gazing at a Broken Heart**

By Tobiz9

**Chapter 1**

**Hermione**

_Only one more year left, _I think to myself happily as I follow my two best friends into the train at Platform nine and three-quarters. _It just sucks that it has to be the most important and most stressful year, what with this being our NEWT year and all._ This is when I envy the Muggle children. I've heard that their last year of school is a piece of cake. Lucky for them.

As my friends and I walk down the corridor looking for an empty compartment, I spot Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini standing alone together. I am surprised that they are not surrounded by their usual lot of Slytherin followers. Zabini has one hand on Malfoy's shoulder, and Malfoy's face is filled with worry. It looks like Zabini is trying to comfort him.

"…Just don't worry about it, mate," I hear Zabini say to his friend. "It'll be just fine, you'll see."

"How can you know that?" Malfoy retorts, his voice low and strained with worry and what sounds like fear. "You've seen what he's like now, Blaise. He's so stressed. I'm just scared he'll -"

"He won't!" Zabini assures the blond quickly, and I see him give Malfoy's shoulder a soft squeeze. I manage to duck down behind the door before I am seen, but I am still able to hear everything the two Slytherin boys are saying.

"He's too smart for that," Zabini continues softly. "And, anyway, he loves the woman. There's no bloody way he'll hurt her."

"He's done it before," Malfoy argues, the sadness and pain clear in his voice. "Why shouldn't he do it again?"

"He's too smart for that, mate," Zabini persists. "He knows there are people watching him … from both sides. He knows not to do anything foolish like that. There's really nothing to worry about, mate. Everything will be fine."

"I hope you're right," Malfoy says, letting out a loud sigh, sounding completely defeated.

I can tell the conversation is over so I straighten up and walk away quickly, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping by the Slytherins. I find Harry and Ron assembled in a compartment with Neville and Luna, talking about their summer holidays.

"Oh, hey, Hermione," Neville exclaims when he sees me. "How was your holiday?" I force a smile at him, unable to take my mind off the exchange between Malfoy and Zabini.

"Oh, you know, same as every summer," I manage to say, trying to sound happy to see them. "Harry and I were over at the Burrow for a couple weeks, nothing new there. How about you two?" I ask Neville and Luna.

We make small talk like that for a few minutes, and no one seems to notice the far off look I know I've got on my face.

"Oh! Tell them, Hermione!" Ron exclaims suddenly, a knowing smile plastered on his face.

He's referring to me becoming Head Girl, of course. In fact, the letter came while I was at his house.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Head Girl!" I announce, beaming.

"That's great, Hermione!" Neville cries, grinning stupidly from ear to ear. Luna nods in agreement.

"Yes, it is," she agrees, speaking for the first time since I entered the compartment. "Maybe you'll be able to do something about the nargles that are roaming free around the school. They are quite common this time of year, and rather difficult to deal with."

"Oh, er, yeah, I'll see what I can do," I say quickly. I then jump up again, remembering something. "Oh, I gotta go! It said in the letter that I'm to meet McGonagall to go over rules and to meet the Head Boy and such. I'll be back soon!"

Without waiting for an answer, I rush out of the compartment and head to the front of the train where we're to meet. I still can't stop thinking about the conversation between Malfoy and Zabini. What were they talking about? Who were they talking about? Why was Malfoy so worried? They couldn't be talking about his father, could they?

I spot McGonagall in the very first compartment, sitting alone, holding a few rolls of parchment in her hands.

"Ah, Ms. Granger, so good to see you," she greets me, smiling kindly, and motions to the seat across from her.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," I say, sitting down.

"Well, it looks like the new Head Boy is late. Not too good a start for the new school year," McGonagall sighs, shaking her head.

"Who **is **the Head Boy, Professor?" I ask, politely, hoping it's someone I know and like, or can at least tolerate, since I'll have to live with him. I suspect either Michael Corner or Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw, or Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff.

"Oh, you'll see in a moment," she replies vaguely, and then, as if on cue, the door slides open and Draco Malfoy steps into the compartment.

_Oh, bloody hell._

"Ah Mr. Malfoy, how nice of you to join us," McGonagall exclaims, while Malfoy only scowls in response. "Why won't you take a seat?"

Malfoy doesn't reply. He just stays standing, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, a bored look on his face. None of the worry or fear I'd seen before shows at all now. He hardly even reacts when he sees that I am Head Girl.

_I can'__t believe _he _is Head Boy! I can't believe I've got to live with _him!

"Very well," McGonagall murmurs, looking away from him. She goes on to talk about all the rules and what our responsibilities as Head Boy and Girl are.

Then, she drops the bomb.

"And, of course, you two will be sharing a dorm so -"

"WHAT?" Malfoy exclaims, looking horrified. He turns and glares at me and I, in return, can't help but smirk at his reaction.

"Well, of course," McGonagall replies, confused by his reaction. "It is a known fact that the Head Boy and Girl always live together. I thought you would have most definitely known that." In response, Malfoy shakes his head, still glaring at me, and she continues: "Well, you will be. You'll be sleeping in two different rooms, of course, but you will have the same common room, the same bathroom, and you'll even have your own kitchen – one of the perks of being Heads."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Malfoy mutters under his breath, but McGonagall and I both hear him.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall snaps, shaking her head in disappointment. "You don't want me to have to take off points this early in the year, do you?" Malfoy only glares at her and doesn't say a word. "Now, as I was saying," McGonagall continues, "your common room is located behind the painting of the centaur on the third floor. The password is 'bean sprouts'. After the Sorting ceremony and the feast, you two are to go up there and get settled in, and I expect you to work out your differences. I will not have the Head Boy and Girl setting a bad example to the rest of the students. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor," I say, and Malfoy merely nods.

"Good," McGonagall sighs, standing up. "Well, that is all. You may go. Have a pleasant trip."

"You too, Professor," I reply, before following Malfoy out into the corridor. He's walking away quickly and I have to run to catch up with him.

"Malfoy!" I call after him. He stops and turns around, running a hand through his blond hair.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asks in a bored voice. His face is perfectly emotionless, but his eyes look tired, and I think I see some worry in them again.

"I just … well, since we'll be living together I … I just thought we should at least try to get along," I stutter, hearing how stupid it sounds just after it escapes my mouth.

"Whatever, Granger," Malfoy mutters, sighing, and with that, he walks away and goes into his compartment without another word.

I stand there for a minute, absolutely stunned. Something is definitely up with Malfoy. He hasn't insulted me once! Something hasgot to be going on with him. What, though? Well, now that we live together, I make a vow that I will find out exactly what.

Finally snapping out of it, I go to walk to my compartment. I pass the one Malfoy entered and glance in quickly. The usual lot are there: Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and, of course, Malfoy. He and Zabini are sitting in a corner, away from the rest of the group, talking softly between themselves. Malfoy has the usual bored look on his face, a smirk never far from his lips, but I still see the worry in his eyes. I can't hear what the two are saying, though, so I continue to my compartment.

I spend the rest of the train ride talking to my friends and sleeping a while … dreaming about Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Hermione**

Throughout the whole ceremony and part of the feast, I can't keep my eyes off Draco Malfoy. I can't stop watching him, observing his every move; the way he interacts with people, the way he plays with his food absentmindedly, taking a bite every now and then. He's sitting at the Slytherin table between Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, his usual smirk gone. Pansy is holding his hand and playing with his hair while Malfoy silently picks at his food, seemingly oblivious to everyone around him.

Then Zabini, noticing how his friend is acting, taps Malfoy's arm gently, snapping the blond out of his trance-like state. The darker boy gives Malfoy a worried look before starting a new conversation with him and Theodore Nott, who is sitting across from them, stuck between Crabbe and Goyle. I see Zabini say something which makes everyone laugh, but I can tell the amusement never reaches Malfoy's eyes.

"Hermione!" a voice yells suddenly in my ear, making me jump and turn away from the Slytherin table. I turn to face an annoyed Ron and a confused looking Harry.

"What the bloody hell is going on with you?" Ron demands, glaring at me. "I've said your name like five bloody times. You've been in a weird mood since the train."

"Yeah and why were you staring at the Slytherin table?" Harry adds, sending a nasty look in Malfoy's direction.

"Oh, it's nothing, I was just daydreaming," I reply coolly, taking a bite from my pumpkin pie.

"Hermione," Harry begins, unconvinced.

"No, really, Harry," I insist. "It's nothing."

The rest of the feast I spend talking to my friends, eating, laughing, and debating about what kinds of crazy experiences this school year will hold. Of course, I can't help glancing over at Malfoy every few minutes. I need to find out what's going on with him, and, after the feast, when we go to the Head dorms, I plan to do some investigating.

---

"Malfoy, what's going on?" I ask as the two of us sit in silence in the Head common room. Malfoy hasn't said a word to me since we were on the train, and he's barely even looked at me once. We've been in the common room, alone together, for about twenty minutes now, and still nothing.

"What are you talking about?" Malfoy mutters finally, looking up at me from the fireplace, which he's been gazing at intently for a while now.

"I mean … you've been … different. You seem kind of … worried, I suppose … sad. You've been really quiet. And you haven't insulted me once."

"And you're complaining?" Malfoy snorts, staring at me curiously.

"I'm not complaining," I persist. "It's just … not like you. You're acting weird. I want to know what's going on."

There's a short silence in which Malfoy looks away from me again at his hands, and I see his jaw clench as he grits his teeth uncomfortably.

"Why do you even care?" he challenges after a minute, still keeping his eyes focused on his hands.

"I don't …" I begin, then pause to think about what I'm going to say. "I mean, we're going to be living together for a whole year. We should really try to get along … try to get to know each other, and I think I have a right to know if there's something you're worried about, because you're making me worry too. It's not just affecting you."

"Don't worry, Granger," Malfoy snarls, his face growing hard, like he's closing himself off from me. "There's nothing you should worry about."

And with that, he stands up and starts walking away, heading for his room.

"Malfoy!" I call, jumping up as well to go after him.

"Just leave me alone, Mudblood," Malfoy snaps, before slamming the door shut.

I stand there for a while, staring at Malfoy's closed door in shock. I can't believe how quickly he changed and returned to his normal self. Sighing, I sit back down and look into the fireplace, the same way Malfoy had just a few minutes ago.

Then, there's a loud knock on the portrait door. When there's no sign from Malfoy's room that he's going to get it, I get up and head to the door, praying it's Harry or Ron and not one of Malfoy's disgusting friends.

Unfortunately for me, though, I open the door to find Blaise Zabini standing there, a smirk quickly forming on his face when he sees me.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he sneers. He reminds me so much of Malfoy, but just a tanned, black haired, Italian version of the pale blond. "Looking good, Mudblood, looking good," he adds, looking me up and down.

Still smirking, he pushes his way past me into the common room, looking around for his friend.

"So where is the Head Boy, Mudblood?" he asks, turning back to me, his green eyes twinkling with laughter. I roll my eyes, motioning to Malfoy's closed door.

"He's a pain in the arse, you know that?" I snap as Zabini turns to head to Malfoy's room.

"You're telling me?" he laughs, coming so close to me, I can feel his breath hitting me face. "You haven't seen anything yet, trust me. He's way more complicated than he lets on. You'll see, you'll grow to like him, then he'll bloody turn on you, just like that." He snaps his fingers in my face, making me jump and step back. "And he's bloody good at it."

"Then why are you friends with him?" I retort. "If he's so horrible like that?"

"He's not like that with me," Zabini explains, and I notice that the humour is now completely gone from his eyes. He's totally serious. "I mean, he used to be. But then he learned to trust me. He tells me everything now."

"Blaise, what the bloody hell are you doing?" a voice growls suddenly, and Zabini and I look over to see Malfoy standing outside his open door, his face contorted in rage, hurt, and … fear, I think.

"It's alright, mate," Zabini says quickly, giving me a look that clearly states, 'I'll deal with this.' Then he turns away from me again and goes over to Malfoy, hauling the blond back into his room. "Come on, we've got to talk," I hear him say as the door closes behind the two Slytherins.

I go back to the couch and sit down, groaning in frustration. I try to tell myself that it's only the first day, that I still have plenty of time to figure out what's going on with him, but it isn't of much help. I get up and go to Malfoy's door, pressing my ear against it to see if I can hear anything. Nothing.

Trying not to think about the Slytherins, I walk out of the dorm and head to the Gryffindor common room.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey! So, I'm rather disappointed by the lack of reviews to my previous two chapters. Is it because it's mostly the same as the older story, and you have nothing new to say? And you're waitiing for new chapters? Well, this is actually going a bit faster than I thought it would, so you should have a new chapter soon! But PLEASE review, and at least say something! It's quite encouraging! Thanks!! Love love!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Hermione**

The week goes by pretty fast, and before I know it, it's Friday. It's great seeing everyone again. Some people, like Neville, have changed drastically over the holidays. He seems to have gained _a lot _more confidence. He's got a girlfriend now – a Muggle girlfriend from his neighbourhood. That's what he says, at least. Most of us just can't believe he's got a partner and the rest of us haven't. I mean, not to be mean, but it's Neville!

Our classes have been fairly easy, with only two papers due so far, but that's just because they're giving us this week to get settled in. Next week we'll be back to work, I'm sure, or back to "hell" as Ron calls it.

We're having dinner in the Great Hall now, debating what to do over the weekend, and I can't help but notice that Malfoy isn't at the Slytherin table. Zabini is there, surprisingly, but he doesn't seem to be his usual joking self. In fact, he seems to be rather worried, as he keeps glancing at the entrance as if he's waiting for someone – Malfoy probably – to walk in.

Malfoy and I haven't spoken since our last - disastrous - conversation on the first day back, but he hasn't insulted me or my friends once either. He seems to mostly avoid coming back to the Head dorms, returning only to sleep. When we don't have classes, I mostly see him out by the lake with Zabini, or by the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. He seems to be spending all his time with Zabini, as if the darker boy takes huge weight off the blond's shoulders.

Suddenly, I just don't feel hungry anymore, and I feel claustrophobic with so many people around.

"I'm just going to go to the library," I announce, standing up. "I should probably get some studying done."

"Studying?" Ron exclaims in disbelief. "Hermione, it's only the first week! We barely have any homework yet!"

I just shake my head at him and walk off.

I don't know why, but I suddenly don't feel like going to library. I feel like looking for Draco Malfoy.

As I stand outside the Great Hall, trying to decide where to go, I hear someone walk up behind me, and I spin around, coming face to face with none other than Blaise Zabini. He has his hands shoved into his pockets, and his head is bent so that his longish black hair falls into his eyes attractively.

I shake my head, getting rid of the last thought, and focus my mind on glaring at the Slytherin. It must not have come off too threatening, because he merely chuckles, and moves to lean against the wall, looking me over.

"What do you want?" I growl, rolling my eyes at the boy. Zabini shrugs and looks down at his feet, and I can tell he's still worried about something. I can see it in his eyes.

"I know you noticed that Draco wasn't at dinner," he stated frankly after a moment. "I've seen you looking at him every meal. I figured you went to look for him."

"Why would I want to look for him?" I snap, even though he's completely right. "I don't give a shit about him. He's such an evil, slimy, annoying git!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love," Zabini laughs, walking away.

"Where are you going?" I call after him before I can stop myself. He stops walking and turns around, smirking slightly.

"Draco's in trouble," he says simply, coming back towards me. "Unfortunately, he's too bloody stubborn to ask for my help, and I know there's nothing I can do about it anyway, so where am I going? I'm going out to the lake to have a drink," he takes out a small flask from his pocket and waves it in my face, "and I'm going to wait there, so that I can be there for him when he comes back."

"Where is he?" I ask, frowning at Zabini's words. Zabini shrugs, tucking his flask back in his pocket. "You're a good friend, you know?" I blurt out before I can stop and think about what I'm saying. "Even if he's a bloody git, he's lucky to have a friend like you." Zabini grins, running a hand through his hair.

"Would you like to come with me?" he invites, holding out a hand to me.

"I … er … I don't think that's such a good idea," I decide after a moment of uncertainty. Zabini rolls his eyes, his grin growing wider.

"What does it matter? What else have you got to do?"

I hesitate, then sigh, nodding, and take the offered hand.

"You're the least Slytherin-like Slytherin I know," I laugh as we walk out of the castle. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?" Zabini asks innocently.

"This," I repeat, holding up our linked hands. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You're a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor. We're supposed to be enemies, but you're asking me to go have a drink with you by the lake. Why?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I've already had a few sips of this drink, so I'm a bit shitfaced already … not thinking properly, you know?" he jokes, chuckling quietly.

I shoot him an annoyed look, silently asking him to tell me the truth. He seems to get the message as he sighs and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again a second later. He doesn't say anything for a while, looking like he is deep in thought. When we get to the lake, I assume he just won't say anything, but then he shrugs before explaining himself:

"I'm worried about Draco. I guess I just want some company. And, to be honest, I think the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry is utterly ridiculous. I

mean, why can't we all just get along?" he laughs, sitting down in the grass by the lake. He acts like he's joking, but I can tell that deep down, he really believes that. Once he opens up, he's actually quite easy to read. He doesn't mask his emotions, like the rest of the Slytherins do, which is rather surprising. I grin, sitting down next to him.

"You know, I've always kind of agreed with that," I say softly. "But Harry and Ron have always been so against Slytherin, and Malfoy was such a git."

"Was?" Zabini raises his eyebrows in disbelief, taking out his flask.

"Well, he's different this year," I admit. "He's … well … he doesn't insult me at all anymore, and he doesn't insult my friends. I haven't even seen him picking on the first years at all. It's like he's a completely different guy. I think something must have happened to him over the summer."

I finally look up at Zabini once I finish speaking. He's sitting there looking uncomfortable and playing with the cap of his flask, not looking at me.

"You know what happened," I say, leaning forward and catching his eye. He holds my gaze for a while and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then clamps it shut again, looking away and taking a long drink from his flask.

"I can't tell you," he mutters finally, staring at his feet. "I promised Draco I wouldn't tell anyone."

"You really care about him, don't you?" I whisper, observing his face for any sign of emotion. He looks sad, and very, very worried.

"He's my best friend," he says simply. "We've been best friends for years. I know him better than anyone. He's always been there for me if I've needed someone, and now he needs me to be there for him. He's ... he's actually a rather good guy … once you look past all the Pureblood, Malfoy shit. He's just … he's had a tough life. I don't think people give him enough credit for how much he's gone through. They just don't understand -"

"Blaise?" a weak voice says softly from behind us. Jumping, Blaise and I turn around to see a very drained looking Malfoy standing there. I frown slightly as I look him over. He has a black eye, and his expensive, normally neat and perfect robes are now all filthy and wrinkled, and he's holding his right arm close to his chest as if he's afraid to move it. Surprisingly, he doesn't look upset that I'm here. He looks too exhausted to be upset.

He slowly makes his way to where Blaise and I are sitting, wincing slightly when he jolts his arm a little as he sits, refusing to look at me.

"He's here?" Blaise asks his friend quietly, and Malfoy only manages to nod weakly before collapsing into the grass, unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey! Sorry for the long wait! It turns out my Beta can't Beta for me anymore, since she's too busy with other things, so I'm Beta-ing myself! Hopefully I'll have Chapter 5 up for you soon too! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Hermione**

"Who's here?" I question, eyeing the unconscious Draco Malfoy in the grass, and Blaise Zabini, who is hovering over the blond. Blaise merely shakes his head at me, and starts lifting Malfoy up gently.

"We've got to get him into the castle," he states simply, disregarding me completely.

"Is he going to be ok?" I ask softly, a little bothered that he avoided my question so easily, and unable to keep my eyes off the blond Slytherin boy I've hated for all these years. And yet, now, I don't hate him anymore; instead, for some reason, I'm finding myself growing very concerned for him. And I really wish that Blaise had answered my question about who did this, because I am absolutely furious with whoever it was.

"He'll be fine," Blaise says, sighing loudly. He appears to be thinking pretty hard about something.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm just trying to decide where to take him," he replies, glancing quickly at the castle.

"Oh, I don't know. How about the Hospital Wing?" I suggest sarcastically, as if it were obvious, which it should be. But Blaise shakes his head.

"We can't take him there."

"And why not?" I press, surprised by his blunt statement, which really doesn't make any sense to me.

"We just can't, ok? Can you stop being a curious bloody Gryffindor for once in your life, and just help us for a minute here?" Blaise snaps, throwing me an angry look, after which he glances at his feet, then back at me, apologetically. "Look, I'm sorry, but we can't take him there. We just," he pauses as a thought hits him, "we have to take him to the Room of Requirement."

"The Room of Requirement?" I repeat, bewildered. "Why?"

"No one goes there," Blaise responds, beaming as if he's just proved he's a genius or something. "And we can ask for a room to heal him in."

It's actually not a bad idea.

"Alright, let's go then," I say, sighing, tired of arguing with him. He's not going to tell me anything anyway. He looks slightly shocked for a moment, as if he can't believe I gave in so easily, but he covers it up quickly, and we go off into the castle, me walking ahead of the Slytherins I had once loathed, keeping my eyes up to make sure there's no one around.

Our journey to our destination goes relatively smoothly, with us only running into someone, a Ravenclaw girl I don't know, once. But, thankfully, Blaise has enough time to duck quickly behind a statue as she walks by, oblivious to the two boys hiding just a few feet away from her.

We finally get to where the Room of Requirement ought to be, and Blaise paces in front of the wall three times, Malfoy still draped over his shoulders, and he seems to be focusing hard on what it is we need. For a moment, nothing happens, and Blaise curses softly as though he's given up. But then the door appears on the wall, and Blaise sighs with relief, nodding at me to open it, since his hands are full.

Obediently, I open the door and we walk into a room full of all different sorts of potions and books about healing spells and such. There is a white hospital bed on the side of the room, with metal bars on the sides to keep the person from falling out, and Blaise heads for it immediately, gently laying Malfoy down and examining him carefully.

Blaise takes a deep breath, then pulls off Malfoy's shirt, rolling the blond over onto his stomach, so that he can inspect his back. What we see makes me almost want to throw up, and I am forced to look away. Covering Malfoy's back are long red lines, where I'm guessing he'd been whipped. The lashes are mostly just welted a little, with only a few that had actually cut into the skin, but they are not deep, so I'm guessing they won't leave scars. But still, it's horrible, and I'm surprised to find tears in my eyes, tears for Malfoy. What's wrong with me?

"It's his father, isn't it?" I murmur softly, breaking the sad silence.

Blaise doesn't respond, which doesn't surprise me. He just runs a hand through his dark hair, turns Malfoy back around, and goes over to the shelves, scanning the books and potions. While he's doing that, I find myself going to sit on the bed next to Malfoy, staring at his face. Now that I'm closer, I see that, in addition to his black left eye, he also has a dark bruise over his right cheekbone, reaching down a little over his jaw. But despite all that, I can't help but notice how peaceful he looks at the moment, when he's sleeping. I watch silently as his strong, muscular chest rises and falls as he breathes in and out. He surprisingly has a very nice body, and he could be really good looking if he were calm like this all the time. I'll probably never see him like this again, so I figure I should appreciate it while it lasts.

Just then though, Blaise comes back over with a potion, and he points his wand at Malfoy and says, "_Rennervate_!"

"Why are you doing that?" I snap at Blaise, glaring. "He needs his rest, he's hurting!"

"I need to get him to drink this, and to tell me where else is hurting," Blaise hisses in return, angrily. I sigh, shaking my head, and look back at Malfoy. His grey eyes flutter open, and he only has a brief moment to stare up at Blaise and me, before his shuts his eyes tightly again, letting out a soft groan of pain. Blaise puts the potion down and gently slides his arms under Malfoy's body, hoisting the blond up so he's leaning against the pillows.

"Draco, look at me," Blaise orders, squeezing Malfoy's shoulder, forcing the blond to open his eyes reluctantly. His once silver, now dull grey, eyes swim with pain as he looks at Blaise, who smiles sadly, then continues: "I need you to drink this," he says, holding up the potion. "It'll heal the cuts on your back."

Malfoy nods, and takes the potion with his left hand, his right arm still held tightly to his chest. He puts the potion to his lips, tilts his head back and swallows, making a face at the horrible taste. Blaise leans his friend forwards a bit to get a look at his back, nodding slightly, before setting him back down on the pillows.

"Good," he whispers, pleased with the outcome. Next, he holds up another potion. "Unfortunately, there isn't anything to make bruises disappear completely, but this will make them fade faster." And Malfoy drinks that one down also, once more making a face at the taste.

"Now … er … now's the hard part," Blaise says softly, bringing over a book. "I've found a spell that will sort of realign broken bones … or something like that … but it won't completely … er … fuse them together exactly, so you'll still need to have a bandage, and a sling. It's your arm that's broken, yeah?"

Malfoy nods, looking down.

"Yeah, I think so," he replies quietly, looking over at me. I smile at him slightly, trying to look comforting, but I think it just comes out looking like I feel sorry for him, because he turns away, looking a little angry.

"Er, ok," Blaise mutters, looking in the book. "It says this will hurt, 'cause the bones have to move to realign themselves. You ready?"

Malfoy nods, taking a deep breath. He holds out his arm, wincing when he moves it. Blaise points his wand at Malfoy's arm and utters a spell I don't recognize. The blond lets out a small cry of pain, shutting his eyes tightly, as the bones in his arm move back together.

When it's all done, Malfoy lets out a sigh of relief and opens his eyes, breathing heavily. After looking at the book again, Blaise mutters a couple more spells, leaving Malfoy's arm bandaged up and in sling against his chest.

"Good?" Blaise asks, nodding at the bandages.

"Yeah, thanks," Malfoy says, sitting up further.

"Don't worry about it, mate, what am I here for?" Blaise jokes, punching Malfoy's good shoulder playfully. "So is that it? Is there anything else you need healed?"

Malfoy shakes his head, glancing over at me uncomfortably. As he looks at me, I notice for the second time in just a few minutes that his eyes are now a dull grey color, when they used to be a brilliant, almost scary, silver. The color of his eyes was the only thing I'd ever liked about him, even when I had hated him with such passion, because they were undeniably amazing, not that I would've ever admitted it back then. But now they've lost the shine they used to have, and I surprise myself by thinking that I would do anything to get it back. I don't know why I'm suddenly having all these peculiar feelings for Malfoy, of all people, but I am. I figure it's just because I feel bad for him – no one deserves to be treated this way, not even a Malfoy.


End file.
